


i want to watch the universe expand

by JamieJam (BlackWidowRising)



Series: Enneagram 'verse [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: COVID-19, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Internalized Transphobia, Negotiating Identity, Period Typical Transphobia, Period-Typical Transphobia, Team as Family, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, Trans Male Character, bubble hockey, real world events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27034630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackWidowRising/pseuds/JamieJam
Summary: Brock is trans, it takes a bit before he feels comfortable telling people.
Relationships: Brock Boeser & Christopher Tanev, Brock Boeser & Troy Stetcher
Series: Enneagram 'verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973077
Comments: 15
Kudos: 81
Collections: Canucks Fic Fest 2020





	i want to watch the universe expand

**Author's Note:**

> Hi,  
> This isn't a sequel to "i remember the minute it's like a switch was flipped", instead this is a parallel story that takes place in the same universe. I am also, apparently, really into Sleeping at Last's Enneagram album so all titles are from Five. If you think I need to tag anything that hasn't been tagged please let me know!
> 
> -JamieJam

_**1\. It feels like an out of body experience** _

Brock has always had hockey. He remembers watching his older brother Paul’s hockey team in the Minnesota High School Hockey Tournament. Brock looks at that game, at the flow, at the screaming mass of the crowd and thinks, I want that.

At eleven Brock gets his first period. It feels like the beginning of the end. Brock has always had hockey but now people are talking about him being a young woman now. The league has been making noise about making him switch to women’s hockey, other kids parents are apparently making a fuss about their boys being around Brock in the locker room. Not that Brock is ever in the same locker room as his teammates.

Brock can honestly say that his parents do not give a shit about what sort of hockey he plays. He lobbies his mom, who lobbies his dad, who then lobbies his coach and the league. Brock keeps playing AA Bantam, keeps shooting pucks in the driveway, keeps dreaming of the NHL.

At thirteen Brock wakes up every day with an itchy feeling of wrongness. He spends days feeling shaky and off balance, lightheaded, and going through the motions. Brock wants to throw up half the time someone says his name or calls him a girl. The other half of the time it physically hurts him. The only good thing at thirteen is hockey. On the ice no one cares that he’s a girl, all that matters is that he can score and score and score. The coach keeps forgetting that Brock is a girl and always calls the team “boys” or “men” or “kids” and it makes something in Brock’s belly swoop with joy. It’s hockey that keeps Brock sane.

_**2\. And I can't help but second guess living behind this one-way mirror**_

Lindsey is super nice. Brock likes Lindsey. Brock thinks Lindsey is awesome, she treats Jessica like she’s Brock’s older sister and has no problem accepting that everything is secondary to hockey in Brock’s life. Brock is happy that Lindsey is getting married to Paul. She’s over one night for dinner, discussing something wedding related with Brock’s mom when she pulls out two packages and hands one to Jess and the other to Brock. With a sinking feeling in his chest, Brock carefully peels away the issue paper, revealing a folded piece of midnight blue fabric. Brock shakes it out, irrationally, desperately hoping that it’s a dress shirt. Midnight blue is Brock’s favourite colour and if he were a girl he could, would, love this dress. But Brock’s not a girl so he just stares at the soft blue fabric pooling in his hands. He stares at the neckline that threatens to show just a hint of his breasts, at the A-line silhouette, at the carefully sewn line of little gems at the waist. Brock stares at the fabric in his hands and wants to cry.

“Why don’t you girls go try your dresses on?” Brock’s mom suggests and Lindsey squeals in agreement. Brock trudges his way upstairs, slow steps echoing in his ears. He slowly strips out of all the layers he has managed to hide his body with. He stares at the dress that he’s thrown across the bed. It’s a beautiful dress that Lindsey brought it so Brock tamps down the urge to barf and pulls it over his head, struggling a little to zip the side, before turning to look in the mirror.

His hair has gotten a little long, framing his jaw and threatening to reach his shoulders. His ever increasing chest has been tamped down with a two-year-old sports bra but the a-line shape hugs all of him in a way to suggest curves and the bodice makes what little breasts he does have look bigger. 

Brock trudges back downstairs where he can hear Jess’ giggles. The red looks stunning on her, it’s in that moment that Brock realises that his and Jess’ dresses are remarkably similar. For a brief minute, Brock wishes that he could be happy like Jessica. He hangs back, one arm wrapped around his waist as he picks at a scab on his elbow.

Brock’s mom lets out a little gasp, “you girls look so gorgeous.”

His dad nods adding, “they look so grown up.”

Lindsey coos at them, “won’t they look so pretty as bridesmaids?”

Jess throws her arms around Lindsey making little noises of joy.

“What,” Brock blurts out. The word bridesmaid is ringing in his ears.

“I thought it would be nice if you girls were in the wedding party,” Lindsey says. Her face is worried and Brock wishes, just for a half a second, that he could hate her. 

Brock spins towards his parents “you said I could wear a suit.”

“That was before you were in the wedding party honey,” Brock’s mom soothes.

“Anyway,” his father says, “you’re a young woman now. When are you going to grow out of this whole ‘tomboy’ thing you do?”

“I’m not going to grow out of it and if I have to wear a dress then I won’t be in the wedding party,” Brock screams. He is drowning, he wants to scratch his skin off. Standing in front of all those people, having pictures taken and displayed, it’s like Brock’s worst nightmare.

“It’s just a dress,” his dad snaps. “Stop making such a big deal about it.”

Brock turns and runs upstairs because it’s not just a stupid dress, it is everything else that comes along with it. He throws the dress into a corner of his room, frantically pulling back on his layers before burying himself in a pile of blankets. He can feel tears leaking out as quiet, gasping sobs force their way out his mouth.

“Hey baby sis,” comes Paul’s voice from the door. “Can I come in?”

“Go away,” Brock yells back, voice rough from crying.

“No can do,” Paul says, opening the door. “My baby sister’s crying.” Paul closes the door behind him and sits at the edge of Brock’s bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Brock mumbles.

Paul laughs, “you just screamed at our parents and Lindsey, who you love, about wearing a dress at my wedding. Mom says you’ve been off lately too.”

“I’m fine,” Brock mutters. “I just don’t want to wear a dress. It’s not practical, where are the pockets?”

“There are dresses with pockets Brock. Is this about hockey?”

“No.”

“Then what’s this about, baby sis?”

“That.”

“What do you mean ‘that’?”

“Baby sis, I’m not your sister” Brock manages to mumble out. It’s something that he’s wanted to scream all year, this burbling thing lingering in his stomach, fighting it’s way up his throat, threatening to spill its way from behind his clenched teeth. Now that he’s said it Brock wants to scream, wants to say it again. 

“What,” Paul says, recoiling and Brock remembers that Paul is, technically, her half brother.

“I’m not a girl,” Brock says, this time louder, stronger, letting the words spill from his lips.

Paul stares at him.

“Say something,” Brock says. “Anything, please.”

“It’s not about a dress is it,” Paul finally manages.

“No, it’s not about a dress.”

“C’mere,” Paul beckons, arms wide. He holds Brock for a minute then, “Do mom and dad know?”

Brock shakes his head, “Not yet.”

“You have to tell them soon,” Paul says. “I can’t keep this secret forever, tell Jess first and then sit them down together. You got to get this hashed out before high school, bro, how else are you going to get drafted.”

Brock laughs wetly. Paul is the best older brother for a reason. “You’re the best older brother you know.”

“Awww,” Paul lets go of Brock. “I'll think of something to tell Lindsey about the wedding ok? You can still be in the wedding party, we’ll just shift you over to the groomsmen.”

When Paul and Lindsey leave Paul hugs him extra tight and whispers into Brock’s hair “Love you, little bro.” Brock’s heart is so full it could burst, there is absolutely nothing that could sour his mood. Until of course, he gets grounded for screaming at Lindsey and his parents.

He calls Lindsey the next day to apologize, she waves him off with a “don’t worry, Paul told me you were going through some things at school,” and Brock immediately feels ten times worse because Lindsey is just- so nice and understanding.

A few weeks later Paul calls and tells Brock that they’re going somewhere together. “Sibling time,” he explains. “I might have let Mom think that you’re feeling neglected by me because we haven’t been spending time together the way we normally would.”

Brock laughs but agrees, Paul picks him up that Saturday. 

“Where are we going?” Brock asks as soon as Paul starts driving. 

“You’ll see,” Paul says conspiratorially.

“Does mom know?” Brock asks suspiciously.

“Some, we are going to a hockey game tonight, we’re just going somewhere else first.”

They drive into Minneapolis and Paul finds a parking spot in a residential neighborhood with small brightly colored houses.

“Why are we here?” Brock asks Paul as he motions for him to get out of the car.

Paul scuffs his foot on the sidewalk as they walk, “There’s an organisation called the Minnesota Trans Health Coalition that has a meetup for trans youth.”

“Oh,” Brock replies.

“We might have to leave early for the second part of your surprise but I thought you might like to spend some time here.”

They reach a yellow house in the middle of the block. It has a pride flag hanging off the side. Paul knocks on the door, a smiling woman opens it.

“Hi,” Paul says. “Is this the trans youth meetup?”

The woman’s entire face lights up, “Come in,” she says. “We have potluck dinner on the table straight through here.”

“We, uh, we didn’t bring anything for the potluck,” Paul says. “No one mentioned it on the phone when I called.”

The woman waves him off, “No worries, normally we do a rotation for who’s bringing what. What are your pronouns?”

“I’m a man so mine are he/him I think,” Paul says, a little puzzled.

The woman laughs, “And how about you honey,” she says gesturing at Brock who’s standing behind Paul, trying to sink into the background.

“He/him,” Brock mumbles. “My older brother didn’t tell me where we were going.”

The woman puts an arm around Brock, “Did he spring this on you?”

Brock nods, “He just said that we were having brother bonding time because he’s never had a younger brother before.”

The woman laughs “I’m Cecile,” she says.

“I haven’t picked a name yet,” Brock whispers.

“That’s fine,” Cecile says. “This process takes time. Come meet the other kids.”

“Should I, ah, go?” Paul says.

“No, no,” Cecile says. “We run a parent group at the same time so you can go to that.”

“Oh,” Paul says. “We might have to leave early, we have tickets to the Wild game.”

Brock whirls around, “NHL tickets?”

Paul laughs, “We have to scope out your competition.”

“You play hockey?” Cecile asks.

“Yep,” Brock chirps.“I’m on an AA Bantam team.”

Cecile does a little bit of a double take. “Wow,” she says, “Your parents must have worked hard to get you on the boys’ team.”

“They don’t know I’m trans,” Brock says.

“So how-“

“I played coed through Squirt and convinced the coach to keep me because I had the most points in the league.”

Cecile smiles, “You are a very determined young man.”

Brock straightens up and smiles, “I guess I am.”

Brock wasn’t expecting this to be fun but it is. He leaves with the other kids MSN handles and a set of informational websites.

The Wild game is awesome. They pull out a tight win and Brock swears he loses his voice screaming. When Paul drops him back at their parents their mom is still up she asks how the game was and Brock is just-so excited. His mom laughs and tells him to go to bed. 

Jess creeps into his room after Brock goes to bed. They curl up under the comforter with a flashlight and Jess asks about the game. They laugh as Brock tries to describe a fight that broke out and roll away from each other, struggling to control their giggles.

“Hey Jess,” Brock starts.

Jess turns toward him, eyebrows raised.

“I’m not a girl,” Brock rushes out.

“You’re not?” Jess says, confused.

“I’m a boy,” Brock replies.

Jess’ eyebrows shoot up and she moves to hug Brock, “I get to have both a little sister and brother,” she says smiling. “Do mom and dad know?”

Brock shakes his head, “No, I told Paul after I lost it over the bridesmaid’s dress.”

Jess’ face suddenly dawns with understanding.

Brock rolls away to stare at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling. “Paul took me to a support group for trans kids before the game today.”

“Was it good?”

“It was nice, I have a bunch of websites I can’t visit on the family computer though. Take me to the library next week?”

Jess smiles, “Sure, baby bro.”

Neither Jess nor Brock are stupid, they both know that their mom knows about their late night sneaking into each other’s rooms. Jess and Brock are only two years apart, close enough that their relationship is almost easy.

Paul takes Jess and Brock to the library, to museums, to hockey games. He takes them places because their parents are busy with something. Jess and Brock are 15 and 13 respectively, they know that something is up but Paul keeps telling them that nothing is wrong. A week after Brock finishes the seventh grade their parents gather them all in the living room for a family meeting. Brock knows it’s going to be bad, there's a box of tissues in easy reach and their mom looks like she’s been crying. 

“Your father and I-” his mom starts before stopping to take a breath. “Your father has Parkinson’s.”

Brock blinks a couple of times and tilts his head, confused, “What does that mean?”

“You know how I have that shaky hand sometimes and how I’m not able to skate with you anymore?” his father says.

Brock and Jess nod.

“Well, that’s going to keep happening. Your mom and I went to the doctor a few times over the last few weeks to understand what’s going to happen to me in the next few years but it shouldn’t get too bad for a good long while. We just wanted to let you kids know.”

Brock just sits there. He doesn’t know what to do with the new information.

His mom smiles tightly, “This isn’t going to change anything, I promise.”

Brock is at the age where he knows that adults lie and his mom is lying if she thinks that she can promise that nothing will change. Everything is going to change, there is always going to be the niggling thought in the back of his mind that his father is sick.

Their mom tells them to go about their business and Brock takes a stick and heads to the driveway to shoot a bucket of pucks. He has a few real nice slappers but most of the shots go wide, hitting the tarp that they put up behind the net, he’s too emotional to shoot properly. His parents leave him alone until it’s time for dinner and then they eat in stilted silence.

Brock goes to bed early, Jess creeps in after their parents go to bed. “Are you scared,” she whispers.

“Are you?” Brock asks. If Jess isn’t worried about it then maybe Brock doesn’t have to be either.

Jess nods. “We don’t know what’s going to happen,” she says. “Mom might be saying that nothing is going to change but that’s a lie.”

Brock nods. They hug and then Jess slips out of the room.

Everything is off in the days after their parents' announcement. Paul takes Brock and Jess places and they even go back to the trans youth group. Cecile is handing out pamphlets on HRT. Brock has gotten careless because Paul and Jess know. He got careless the last time he and Jess curled up under her comforter and looked at baby name books and printouts from the library and the Minnesota Trans Health Coalition. They left the printouts in between the fitted sheet and the mattress pad of Brock’s bed. His mom finds them.

Brock comes home from hockey camp to his parents sitting in the living room, all of Brock’s printouts and papers on the coffee table in front of them. His mom looks up when he enters, her eyes are red and it looks like she’s been crying. His dad has an arm wrapped around his mom and is scowling. Jess sits across from them, eyes wide and wary. 

“What,” his dad hisses, “is this?”

Brock stops. His whole world freezes. His eyes home in on the printouts and pamphlets spread across the table. His mom lets out a little sob. Brock shuffles over to where Jess is sitting and shoves himself into half of her chair. Jess grabs his hand and squeezes, Brock stares at his lap.

“What is this whole,” Brock’s dad squints at the pamphlet he’s holding in his hands. “Transgender thing?”

“It uh,” Brock isn’t sure what to say, he settles on a mumble, “it means that I’m not a girl.”

Brock’s mom bursts into tears. Jess’ eyebrows go comically high in response to their mom’s outburst. His dad’s face is stony and impassive.

“Uhm,” Brock lurches forward, sifting through the papers that litter the coffee table until he comes up with a pamphlet for parents. “Here,” he thrusts the pamphlet at his mom. She stares at it. “Mom,” Brock says, voice shaking. “Mom, please, just, just read it.”

Brock’s mom takes the pamphlet with a shaky hand. She nods slowly, sniffling a little, “I’ll take a look at it later,” she whispers shakily.

“Dad,” Brock says hesitantly. He won’t look at him. “Dad,” Brock whispers again.

“Is this, has this been a thing for long,” his dad whispers. He’s gone from being angry to almost scared, at least it sounds like it.

Brock moves to sit in between his parents, they shift to accommodate him. “I didn’t know what it was called,” Brock says softly. “I didn’t understand what was wrong with me, why I couldn’t be happy like Jess.”

His mom lets out a choked sob. His dad pats him on the back lightly.

“Oh honey,” his mom whispers, a fresh round of tears welling up.

“Jessica,” his dad says. “Did you-” he cuts himself off. “Did you know about this?”

Jess nods. “Paul knows too,” she says with a shrug.

His dad turns to Brock, “and when were you going to tell us?” he bites out. “Were we just supposed to find these?” He gestures at the papers spread over the coffee table. 

“No,” Brock chokes out, hands shaking. “I was going to tell you. I was- I was supposed to say something but then dad’s diagnosis and I didn’t know what I was going to say. I didn’t want to make trouble for anyone and it just seemed like so much of a bother-”

Brock gets up and faces his parents. His mom is still crying. His dad is sitting, a shell shocked expression etched into his features.

“I picked a name,” Brock whispers. “Paul said you were going to name me Brock if I was a boy-”

“That’s enough,” his dad cuts him off. Brock flinches backward a little. “Just,” he waves a hand, “Just go upstairs.”

_**3\. Like I was already brave enough to let go** _

It takes a while but his parents come around to him being trans midway through eighth grade. Brock thinks that the deciding factor is probably when Paul bullies his parents into going to one of the Minnesota Trans Health Collective’s Trans Teen Meetups. Cecile talks to his parents and while his dad is silent on the drive home and immediately goes to bed his mom comes in to sit with him that night.

“You’ve been there before,” his mom says, stating a fact. “Cecile and the others, they know you.”

“Paul took me before the Wild game last spring,” Brock replies. “He takes me an’ Jess on our sibling bonding days sometimes.”

His mom sits next to him on the bed. “Cecile told me,” she takes a deep breath. “Cecile told me that, not being a boy, it hurts you?”

Brock nods.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Brock hugs his mom, “You didn’t know, you didn’t understand, you didn’t mean to. It’s a grieving process.”

“That’s what Cecile said. You know I love you, Brock, you’re my baby. You’re my baby boy and I love you. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that can make me love you any less.” She tucks him into bed. It’s the first time his mom has tucked him in in years.

Brock goes to a magnet middle school with an attached high school. Most students stay for high school, Brock doesn’t. He wants a fresh start.

In ninth grade, Brock starts school at Burnsville High. Jess is already a junior there. No one there knows his dedaname. His original plan is to stay under the radar but starting as a freshman on the varsity hockey team and playing JV baseball invites attention.

At first, Brock sits with Jess and her friends at lunch. Jess’ friends probably know that he’s trans, he’s known some of them have for a while but they don’t ever bring it up. Eventually, though Brock makes his own friends, most of them are on sports teams with him but he’s friends with a few kids from GSA and some of his classes. His mom just seems to be happy that he has friends. Midway through the year, his dad gets into a car accident, it makes his Parkinson’s worse. His mom becomes more frazzled and starts working more hours. Life goes on. 

Brock goes to tournaments, tears up Minnesota high school hockey, and enters the USHL draft. He goes first overall. Brock is on top of the world as everything falls to pieces around him. His grandfather dies before his first game in the USHL, his best friends get into a car accident while he’s at the Ivan Hilinka tournament. Somehow he still manages to graduate high school with a B+ average and a full ride to UND. Brock goes in the first round of the NHL draft.

His entire life Brock has been going up against guys who are stronger than him. For a while, they were bigger than him too. He’s never been on T so he’s still got his baby face. When Brock mounts the draft day stage he can only pray that his binder is doing its job and that his packer hasn’t slipped. He prays when they put their arms around him for the group picture that they can’t feel the outline of his binder.

When they draft him the Canucks don’t know that he’s trans, no one outside his family, his agent, the medical staff in Waterloo, and some of his high school teammates know. The Canucks take it surprisingly well. Granted, someone in the front office thinks he’s a girl and somebody else asks why he doesn’t play women’s hockey but Jim Benning reiterates how glad they are to have him and tells him to talk to the head trainer. 

The head trainer’s name is Matthew and he is, apparently, new to the job. He tells Brock that at this point in the summer any major surgery wouldn’t be possible if he wants to start the season at UND. Matthew does tell him that starting testosterone might be doable if they clear it with the NCAA.

Here’s the thing, Brock doesn’t want to be out, at least not publicly, not yet anyway. He doesn’t want to be _the_ gay trans hockey player. Doesn’t want all his accomplishments or lack thereof slapped with a qualifier that will haunt the league, and him, forever. Brock doesn’t want to be misgendered, doesn’t want to have his every move scrutinized. The NCAA would require him to disclose. He decides not to start T while he’s at UND. Brock goes to UND on a mission, prove to the Canucks that his draft stock hasn’t dropped just because he’s trans.

Officially, Brock is in general education at UND. Unofficially, he’s majoring in sports management and queer studies. Most of his teammates aren’t in his classes except for the core ones but as far as Brock can see they’re pretty cool dudes. Of course, they are pretty cool dudes who also play hockey and casually throw around the f-slur and make jokes about trans people so Brock is careful around them.

Brock probably spends the most amount of time with Stetch who went undrafted the year before. He’s Brock’s team appointed upperclassman so every few weeks he’s supposed to check in and see how he’s acclimatising. It’s during one of these lunches that Brock accidentally comes out while railing against North Dakota’s lack of protections and the fact that he can’t go to the university health center because of it. Stetch is so very confused at first but they have an actual conversation about it two weeks later and Stetch slaps him on the back and goes, “dude you’re sort of a badass.” He quietly runs interference when Brock’s changing or when his teammates are trying to get him to pick up.

Brock tears it up his first year at UND, winning the NCAA championship and playing top line minutes. The Canucks tell him to keep working, to take another year in college. It’s bittersweet because Stetch is leaving for the Canucks and now Brock isn’t going to have his best friend anymore. Brock goes home and hangs out with his high school friends, spends time with his family, and waits for the season to start up again.

The UND team sort of falls apart in his second year. Too many key pieces either graduated or left for the NHL leaving holes up and down their roster. Brock doesn’t think he’s ever had a harder season. He’s mentoring a few freshmen and quietly attending some queer rights events off campus. Most of his friends at UND don’t play hockey, about half of them know he’s trans. A couple of them are also trans. It’s nice to talk to people who get it sometimes, they can bitch about cis people and trade tips for passing, or at least staying under the radar.

Things are getting tight at home. Brock has always known not to ask for extra things, that even with his full ride there are a million other things that aren’t being paid for. He knows that his mom is thinking about increasing hours at one of her jobs so Brock has his agent reach out to the team. He lets the Canucks know that he wants to sign at the end of his hockey season. The Canucks agree. Brock plays his first game against the Minnesota Wild, his entire family comes. This, this moment right here, with his dad reading his name. His fucking name, off of the starting line up card is everything Brock had ever dreamed of and more. Brock lights it up.

_**4\. My armor falls apart, as if I could let myself be seen, even deeply known** _

Brock plays his first game against the Wild in Minnesota. They have his parents read the starting lineup and when his dad says that he never thought he’d say it, Brock can feel himself tear up. He is pointedly not looking at his mom because if he does he’s going to start crying because she’s going to start crying.

Brock lights it up against the Wild. Afterward he gets to spend time with his family, some of the guys from UND, and his high school friends. When the cameras go away Brock cries, his mom cries, and his dad looks a little sniffly. Two days later in Vancouver Brock gets his first dose of T, he asks one of the assistant trainers to videotape the entire moment so he can send it to his family.

The Canucks don’t make the playoffs. In any other year, Brock would be bummed but it lets the Canucks medical team schedule his top surgery. 

Brock flies home to Minnesota and has his surgery in Minneapolis. It takes three weeks for the swelling to finally go down and Brock finds himself poking at his newly flat chest every few days to make sure he’s not dreaming. The Canucks medical team thinks that he can start training a few weeks after the swelling goes down. His mom worries that they’re rushing him and that the incisions won’t heal properly but Brock includes her on one of his phone calls with the med team and she relents. Brock’s scars come in noticeably despite his religious application of scar cream but it’s only been a few weeks and these things fade over time.

Brock goes back to Vancouver for prospect camp. He gets to hang out with other guys hoping to make the team. Prospect camp is a weird mix of drills to see if they’re NHL ready and team building exercises. Brock is so grateful for his top surgery because a bunch of the exercises are done shirtless and in front of everyone else at camp. Luckily everyone else is too absorbed in their own quest to get a training camp invite to ask about the new looking incisions on his chest. The trainer assigned to him is the same guy who gave him T-shots in Vancouver so Brock doesn’t have to answer any questions about it from medical either. Brock throws out a shitty first pitch at a baseball game, collects phone numbers from guys he hung out with, and snags an invitation to training camp.

Training camp is hard. Not that Brock thought that it wouldn’t be but his chest hasn’t always been letting his arms move the way they did pre-surgery. Brock doesn’t tell anybody, his mom will say that it’s because he rushed his return and deep down Brock knows that she’s right. He makes the team, but is benched the first few games of the season, by the time he makes it into the lineup his chest no longer pulls when his arms move in certain ways. He lights it up, scoring fast and hard and at a pace that’s insane for a rookie, it doesn’t help that he gets to play on a line with Bo and occasionally even the Sedins.

Brock lives with Stetch. It’s easy to fall back into old patterns with him, to slide into locker room banter with a smile. Like at UND, Stetch covers for him when the boys tease him about picking up or when he’s changing. It’s Stetch who waits for him every week after the trainers give him his testosterone shot, Stetch who rooms with him on the road and drags him out to hang out with Gauds and Tuna and Bo.

Tanny keeps inviting Brock over for dinner and Brock keeps making excuses. He also badgers Brock about his frequent trips to the trainers.

“Dude,” Stetch says, as they’re sitting on the couch waiting for their delivery to arrive, “just fucking go over for dinner. He’s started badgering me about your trainer trips. He just wants to get to know you. Tanny’s like, team freaking dad right up there with the Sedins-”

The doorbell rings and Brock gets up to pay the delivery guy. 

“What does him being a team dad in training matter,” Brock says plopping back down on the couch with his sushi.

Stetch rolls his eyes and shoves a California Roll into his mouth, “because he cares asshole.”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Brock replies absently, picking at his food. “What does he want from me though? That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“God, Brock,” Stretch sighs. “You make everything so fucking complicated for no reason.”

Brock doesn’t respond. Sometimes it’s hard to talk to Stetch about things because he just doesn’t get it. Brock is terrified of telling his teammates that he’s trans, he is even more terrified of one of them finding out. He likes his teammates, they’re good dudes, the Sedins run a tight ship in the locker room but it doesn’t mean that things don’t slip through. Sometimes, when the Sedins or Bo or Eagle aren’t around some of his teammates throw around the f-slur likes it’s the same as saying fuck, they make the sort of gay jokes that aren’t politically correct and that they don’t have the cultural license to make. Sometimes they do it when they are there. Brock wants to believe that Tanny has good intentions, wants to believe that he’s a good dude, but Tanny still uses the f-slur unrepentantly and words like sissy and queer run out of his mouth like water. Brock wants to go to Tanny’s for dinner but he worries about what could happen.

It takes two weeks and three more dinner invitations before Brock accepts Tanny’s offer. It’s not an awful experience, he’ll probably take Tanny up on his offer to eat over more. There’s something novel about having a meal that you didn’t order from a meal service. Brock eats at Tanny’s three or four times a month, sometimes he brings Stetch, sometimes he doesn’t. Tanny becomes somewhat of a father figure, Stetch was right to call him team dad. He makes Brock feel comfortable.

Midway through the season Gauds corners him and asks him about his taste in women. Brock stares at him like a deer in headlights.

“C’mon man,” Gauds says. “You spend like, all your time with the team or Stetch, you never pick up when we’re on the road. Don’t you want like, companionship or like, sex.”

Brock blinks slowly in response. He doesn’t only know people on the team, he has friends. Granted all his friends are in either Minnesota or North Dakota right now, but he calls them pretty frequently. Brock is just trying to settle into Vancouver, trying to find his place on the Canucks, he doesn’t have time to date, not that he’s really interested in the risk right about now either.

“Just trying to get used to the NHL life,” Brock replies.

Gauds nods sagely, “Just let me know if you ever need a wingman dude.” He slaps Brock on the back and bounces off into the distance.

Brock sort of wants to come out to someone. It’s a weird feeling, but Brock wants to talk to someone other than Stetch about being queer, wants to confide in his teammates, wants to trust them. It’s almost easy then to pop by Tanny’s for dinner and advice, to sit in his kitchen while he cooks and monologues. To sit at a dinner table and feel loved.

Brock offers to clear the plates from the table and Tanny, as always, goes with him to the kitchen, even though Brock knows where all the dishes go by now.

“Everything fine kid,” Tanny asks as Brock rinses the plates in the sink while he puts leftovers into Tupperware.

“Yeah,” Brock whispers. “I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Whatever it is,” Tanny says, putting a hand on Brock’s shoulder, “it’s going to be fine. You’re doing great, ok, settling in really well.”

“I’m trans,” Brock blurts out. “Shit,” he murmurs, “I had a whole speech planned out.”

Tanny stares at him, “Like you’re a girl trans?”

“No,” Brock says empathetically, maybe a little too loudly. He lowers his voice, “I’m a boy.”

Tanny blinks a few times in his direction, “Ok,” he says slowly after a minute.

“I just, I wanted to tell somebody on the team. I wanted to not have to carry around this giant thing about me that no one knows and that I can’t share.”

“Am I the first person on the team you’ve told?”

Brock shakes his head, “Stetch has known since we were at UND together. The trainers know too, they administer my T shots.”

“Cool, cool,” Tanny responds quickly. “Anything else I need to know rookie? Any more big revelations you have for me?”

Brock laughs, “Does me being gay count? Because if so, yeah.”

“Like your gay-gay or gay because you used to be a girl gay?” The minute that sentence leaves Tanny’s mouth Brock wants to scream.

“I’m ‘gay-gay’ as you so eloquently put it,” Brock replies, he moves to get leave the kitchen, “I can forward you some websites with like, information and shit.”

“That would be good,” Tanny replies. “That would be really good.” He looks like his mind is elsewhere and Brock so desperately wants to know what he’s thinking. Wants to know whether he’s started to think of Brock as a girl. Wants to know if he’s going to get invited back to eat at his table, to sit with a plate of food and feel loved.

The days that follow are like every other day that he’s had in the NHL. The only big difference is that Tanny pops up at random moments to ask invasive questions.

“What were you called before?” 

“Do you have boobs?”

“Do you have a dick?”

“What about kids?”

Brock is patient, sends Tanny websites with information, and waits for Tanny to get fed up eventually, which he does relatively quickly. After that Tanny is all overenthusiastic wingman and team dad.

Brock gets invited to the All Star Game. His entire family goes down to Florida. It’s probably the first real family vacation they’ve been on in years. His mom keeps prompting him to smile and wiping imaginary dirt off his face. There’s something so surreal about being in the same arena, on the same team, in the same events as his childhood idols. Sidney Crosby, Sidney fucking Crosby comes up to him and congratulates him on being the only rookie selected. There aren’t any other Canucks but it’s a locker room and Brock’s used to locker rooms. Brock wins the accuracy contest and it feels like validation. Brock knows that the All-Star Game is like one big party but knowing it and seeing it is very different. He gets to watch Fleury, Letang, and Crosby rag in each other at the hotel bar while Eichel and McDavid glare at each other across a table. He gets All-Star MVP and wins a car which he promptly gives to Jess because she needs a new one and Brock already has one. The best part of the entire weekend is adopting a dog. Coolie’s little face just calls to him and he and Jess combine their puppy eyes for the ultimate goal of adopting him and, surprisingly enough, it works. Brock leaves the All-Star Game with his heart full and his head spinning.

Brock is putting up points left and right, he’s in the running for the Calder, the beginnings of a beard are popping up on his chin. And then he goes in for a hit on Clutterbuck while Stetch is opening the bench door. Later Brock will watch the video and see what happened. Later he will know why it hurt so much but in the moment all he feels is blinding pain as he lies face down on the ice, his whole body hurts. He needs to get up, he can feel himself panicking lying on his chest, can feel how hyper aware he is of everything that is “not man” about his body. He needs to get up, his dad always says that if you’re not seriously injured you need to get up, his mom is watching this game and he doesn’t want to worry her. It takes forever but he gets up, he can’t put weight on his left leg but he manages to get down the hallway. The trainers call an ambulance, Brock doesn’t want pain medication, doesn’t want to lose control in front of strangers. He relents when the ambulance goes over a bump in the road and he starts screaming and crying. The team doctor has him take an MRI and it turns out he fractured a vertebra in his back.

Tanny and Stetch take him home from the hospital. They wait for him to be released from the hospital. Brock has a back brace and a softball sized lump, every step hurts. Stetch has apparently already called his mom to let her know that Brock’s ok, Tanny has brought a home cooked meal, Tuna is making jokes about him throwing out his back like an old man.

Brock spends the rest of the season on IR. He spends most of it in his bed by himself. Before Brock came to Vancouver he had friends who weren’t team but he hasn’t quite figured that out here yet. Doesn’t know where to find people who will let him be casually queer without outing him. It’s not to say that the team isn’t great, they are but there are things that Brock just can’t talk to Tanny or Tuna or Stetch or Gauds about. Brock spends the end of his first full season lonely and wishing for people and wondering if his slow recovery will make the Canucks regret drafting him.

Brock goes home to Minnesota, spends an inordinate amount of time shirtless at the lake with his friends, helps out his parents, hangs out with his sister and, best of all, spends time with Paul’s new baby. The first time Brock holds Parker something inside him melts, his tiny little face and miniscule fingers, the way he kicks gently at Brock’s arm. It makes him long for things he never thought he’d have. Brock loves kids, has always wanted some of his own but there’s the terrifying prospect of not fitting in, of not having a person who wants the same things that he does, who would understand why he wants to adopt, why the idea of being pregnant makes him panic and feel unimaginably itchy.

Brock buys an apartment in Vancouver, he starts putting down roots, brings Coolie with him because he needs friends. On the first day of training camp Brock sits next to the new kid, he’s blonde and Swedish and when he turns toward Brock after he introduces himself, Brock realises that he’s really cute. Brock pushes the thoughts about Elia being cute into the recesses of his mind and decides to instead be this dude’s best fucking bro because they’re probably going to be road roomies. 

The first road trip presents a problem for Brock. He’s rooming with Petey except, he’s never roomed with a guy who didn’t know that he was trans before. It’s not that Brock wants to come out to Petey at the moment, it's just that Brock needs to tell Patey now before he finds out on his own later. 

It’s midway through the season when Brock drags Petey to Tanny’s for dinner, it’s not their first dinner at Tanny’s but it is the most significant. Brock means to come out to him then, but Brock doesn’t want to lose this thing he’s built with Petey. Brock doesn’t want to mess up the locker room or his relationship with one of his best friends so he doesn’t tell him. Petey goes to the All Star Game and donates his winnings to Parkinson’s research, Brock falls a little bit more in love with him. Brock invites him to Minnesota, Petey says maybe. He doesn’t come but Brock watches him win the Calder on television and sends him a congratulatory text.

Contract negotiations are a bitch. Brock can’t tell if, according to his agent, they’re trying to lowball him because he’s trans or because of his injury history. It takes forever to get the contract finished. Petey tells the media that he would drive down to Minnesota and get Brock himself and in terms of shows of emotion that is the top of the scale for Petey, Brock swoons a little. Later Coach Green tells him that the delay on the contract was on purpose because they heard about what was going on with his dad and thought that Brock might want some extra time with him and Brock just, loves his team. 

His first year off his ELC is hard. His dad is still in the hospital and Brock is so far away. Sure it’s a relief not to have to room with anyone anymore but it makes nights lonely and the last thing Brock wants to be right now is alone. He’s made friends though, none of them know that he’s trans but they’re not team and that’s all that really matters. He has dinners with Tanny and Petey and Huggy. He has doggy playdates with Stetch. Brock has made a life for himself in Vancouver, and then the NHL shuts down.

Brock goes back to Minnesota, adopts a puppy, sees his parents from six feet away and drops off groceries. He facetimes Petey, calls Stetch, and stays at the lake house. It’s lonely there now, Brock has always filled his life with people and now there is no one. He ratifies the return to play and heads back up to Vancouver, leaving Coolie and Milo with his parents. 

Brock has spent his entire career hearing trade rumors, has spent the days before the trade deadline anxious and terrified, Brock comes back to Vancouver to the trade rumors ringing in his ears louder than ever before. It’s Petey though who tells management that he will be very very peeved if Brock gets traded; it’s Tanny who sits with him and breathes when Brock gets too in his head; it’s Huggy who, true to his name, wraps his arms around Brock when he thinks he needs it; it’s the entire team. It makes Brock think for a brief moment what he could have if he came out to them. It makes Brock wonder if this is what having a team, having a family, is supposed to feel like.

_**5\. I finally feel the universe expand - it's hidden in heartbeats, exhales, and the hope of holding hands** _

It’s weird being in the bubble. It’s lonely too. Brock had built up friendships in Vancouver, built a community outside the team and now he’s cut off from that. His cousin dies in the middle of the play in round and Brock feels numb, there has been too much death in his life for him to feel anything but the heaviness of grief. The Canucks pull out a series win in four games. They move on.

The Canucks get the Blues in the first round. Which sucks because they’re the defending Stanley Cup Champions. The games however feel divorced from reality. Brock goes through dysphoric episodes that are the worst that he’s had since middle and high school. He spends the hours after Game 1 floaty and shaking, trying to ground himself before falling into a fitful sleep. He has a panic attack the morning before Game 3 and calls Tanny as he sits on the bathroom floor with scissors clutched in his hand.

Tanny comes. Tanny sits with him and waits for him to be able to form words and coherent thoughts.

“I want to cut my hair,” Brock finally manages to say. “It’s too long for a boy.”

Tanny blinks twice and asks, “Do you like your hair long?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I like it or not.” 

His hands start shaking again and Tanny grabs them. “I have long hair,” he replies. “I like my hair. I’m a man.” Tanny scoots closer to Brock until they are sitting side by side on the bathroom floor. “I’m a man, Brock. You’re a man. Both of our hair is a good length for a man.”

Brock nods weakly. “I do like it a little long,” he whispers.

“Maybe you can go to the barber later,” Tanny adds. “Your beard looks nice, it’s coming in really well.”

Brock smiles and preens a little, “Thanks,” he murmurs.

“You’re welcome,” Tanny says, putting an arm around Brock and pulling him close. They sit there for a bit.

Brock has a few good days and then he feels like he’s thirteen all over again while he’s having a panic attack in a men's bathroom of the players area in Rogers Arena before Game 4 against the Golden Knights. It’s Gauds who finds him, shaking and rocking.

“Boes,” he says cautiously. “Boes, you ok man?”

Brock doesn’t, can’t respond. He’s not ok, he feels like he’s shaking out of his skin, feels like the world is falling apart around him. Brock is light headed and uncomfortably aware of how his shirt pulls across his chest.

“Brock,” Gauds tries again. “I’m gonna get Motter ok? I’ll, uh, I’ll be right back. Hang in there man.”

Brock doesn’t know how long Gauds is gone, time is both speeding up and slowing down, the world around him is spinning out of his control and Brock is barely holding on by the tips of his fingers. Gauds comes back with Motter.

“Brock,” Motter says, voice soft. “Can I sit with you?”

Brock nods and Motter settles himself in front of Brock.

“Can you breathe with me?” Motter asks. Here is the thing, Brock cannot breathe with Motter because breathing with him would require Brock to be present in his body when what he really wants more than anything is to get the fuck away from it.

“Can you get Tanny?” Brock whispers after a moment, after twenty horrifying seconds of breathing and being way too present, way too aware of everything that is wrong.

“Sure man,” Gauds says from where he’s been loitering by the door.

“Are panic attacks a thing that happen normally for you?” Motter asks awkwardly. Brock feels bad for him, he doesn’t deserve to have to deal with all of Brock’s shit.

“It wasn’t a panic attack,” Brock responds.

“No offense Boes but that looked a lot like a panic attack.”

Brock doesn’t respond. “How did you tell them?” he whispers, hands shaking in his lap, knees drawn up, tile edges digging into his back.

“What do you mean?”

“How did you tell them about your,” Brock flaps a hand in Motter’s general direction.

“My depression and anxiety you mean?”

Brock nods. It’s at that moment that Tanny bursts in. Tanny, who slides down to sit next to Brock. Tanny who just sits there, until Brock wants to start speaking.

“I thought that being in the bubble would be easier,” Brock mumbles, leaning into Tanny.

“What do you mean bud?” Tanny asks. Motter is trying to find a way to leave unobtrusively and drag Gauds away with him who has been standing awkwardly by the door pretending not to listen.

“I thought,” Brock takes a deep breath. “I thought if all I had to think about was hockey then I wouldn’t have to deal with all the other things because I’ve never had to really worry about being man enough for hockey. I thought that maybe the bubble would make me forget how much I don’t fit.”

Tanny wraps an arm around him and pulls him closer, “We all thought the bubble would be easier. Maybe not for the same reasons you did but hockey was never supposed to be the only thing that any of us ever did.”

“It was supposed to get easier when I got older Tanny,” Brock whispers. “It was all supposed to get easier.”

“Why did you think it would be easier?” Tanny asks, Motter and Gauds have left the bathroom with whispered assurances that they would let the coaches and team know that they would be coming.

“I thought that maybe I would be out,” Brock whispers into Tanny’s shoulder. “I thought that maybe it would get easier to tell people. I always thought that I would be in a better place but I feel like I’m back in middle school not knowing what’s wrong with me. I think- I think I want to tell the team.”

“Ok,” Tanny says. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to keep carrying this by myself. I want to be able to lean on the team the way everyone else can. I don’t want to be scared of my teammates anymore.”

Tanny sits with him, on the bathroom floor, until it’s time to get ready for practice.

“It’ll be ok,” Tanny says as they get up to leave and giving Brock a hug. “It will all be ok.”

“Will you come with me,” Brock asks, “when I tell the coaching staff.”

“Sure,” Tanny responds. “Whatever you need.”

They go to practice, it’s easier somehow to practice when Tanny promises to be there for him.

“Coach Green,” Brock says quietly at the end of practice. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure Brock,” Coach Green says. “Go get changed and then come by my office.”

Brock taps Tanny on the shoulder as they’re changing, “going to tell Coach Green now.”

“Want me to come with?” Tanny asks.

“Naw,” Brock says. “Wait for me though?”

Tanny nods and slaps him on the back.

Brock changes, as always, as fast as humanly possible and makes his way over to the conference room the coaching staff are using as an office. He knocks on the door, “Coach Green,” he says.

“Come on in Brock,” Coach Green calls.

Brock creeps quietly into the room. Coach Green gestures for him to sit down. Brock’s jittery and his leg bounces as they go through pleasantries.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Coach Green finally says as Brock deflects and weaves around what he actually wants to say.

Brock stares at his hands in his lap. He rubs a hand on the back of his neck, “I’m trans,” Brock whispers.

Coach Green looks at him kind of funny.

“I’m a trans man,” Brock says louder.

Coach Green’s eyebrows are raised ever so slightly on his normally impassive face. “Okaay,” he finally says after a minute. “Who knows?”

Brock sags a little, letting all the tight, nervous energy that had been wound around his chest evaporate. “My agent, some of the trainers, some of the front office…” Brock trails off.

“Let me rephrase my question, who on the team knows?”

“Tanny and Stetch, Petey might have figured it out by now but I haven’t actually told him.”

“Ok,” Coach Green leans back in his chair. “Why are you telling me now?”

“I’m tired of being afraid,” Brock replies. “I want to come out to the team. I want to lean on them the way everyone else gets to.”

Coach Green nods. “Talk to Bo before telling the rest of the team, you’ll want to have your captain's support for this announcement.”

“I will,” Brock responds. 

Tanny’s waiting outside for him after he leaves, “How’d it go?” he asks.

“Green wants me to come out to Bo before I make the whole team announcement,” Brock responds. “I’m going to swing by his room after dinner tonight. I want to be out before game five.”

They get on the bus back to the hotel, Brock sliding into a seat next to Stetch and putting in his earbuds before queuing up his trans feelings playlist and texting Petey if he wants to watch Gossip Girl when they get back to the hotel. They watch a couple of episodes of Gossip Girl with Huggy in Brock’s room and eat room service before he makes excuses and kicks them out. He waits a bit before heading down the hall to see Bo, killing time by calling his mom to let her know what he’s about to do, texting some of his friends from Minnesota and UND, scrolling through Instagram. It takes an hour and a half before Brock has the courage to walk down the hall and knock on Bo’s door.

Bo answers the door with a smile, “Hey Boes, what’s up?”

Brock stares at his feet and shifts back and forth, “Can I come in?” he finally whispers.

Bo’s face morphs into something a little more concerned, “Sure,” he replies and opens the door a little wider to let Brock enter. Brock shuffles inside, he's jittery and uncertain, heart beating out of rhythm in his throat, fingers itching at his sides. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m gay,” Brock whispers. It’s always safer to lead with that one, always easier to let someone know that before anything else.

Bo raises an eyebrow, “Ok,” he says. “And you’re here about your crush on Petey.”

Brock goes a little pink, is he really that obvious? “No,” he stammers out. He rubs the back of his neck, “I’m uh, i’m a trans man.”

Bo’s eyebrow moves a little higher, “Okaaay.”

“I uh, I want to let the rest of the team know,” Brock says.

“Do you have any like information packets and things so I know more what that means?” Bo asks.

“I can forward you some links,” Brock replies absently. “So it’s cool if I tell the team after practice tomorrow?”

“Brock, are you here to ask my permission?” Bo says slowly. “Because you don’t need to do that, this is your team too.”

“I know,” Brock replies, “that’s why I want to tell them. I just didn’t want to blindside you.”

Bo smiles at him and gives him a hug. “If you don’t mind me asking, why now?”

“I’m tired of being afraid of my friends.” Bo walks him to the door but not before extracting a promise from Brock to let him know if anyone gives him shit.

Brock feels lighter walking back down the hall, there’s a little bit of a bounce while he walks. Tomorrow, he thinks to himself before he goes to bed, is going to be a really good day.

The next day starts the same as every other day in the bubble. Brock sits with Tuna, Petey, Huggy, and Stetch for breakfast. He goes to practice and somehow his gear feels lighter and the puck seems to hit the back of the net on every shot he takes. Brock feels like flying through practice, through lunch, through the bus ride back to the hotel. The heavy, sinking, anxious feeling settles back into his chest as he heads up to the conference room the team has been using for video review. The air around him seems heavy as Coach Green has them poking holes in the Vegas Golden Knights. Brock can feel his palms get sweatier, hears his heart beat faster in his ears, he gets up at the end of video review and walks to the front of the room anyway. Brock stands at the head of the table and stares at his teammates, he looks at Tanny’s encouraging smile, at Petey’s worried gaze, at Huggy’s dead eyed stare. 

Brock looks at each and every one of his teammates, bites his lip, looks down at his feet, and opens his mouth. “I thought that, somehow being in the bubble, that it would be easier because the one thing I’ve always had has been hockey. The one thing I have always been me in has been hockey, but the truth is that the bubble has been so much harder and,” Brock takes a deep breath. “You’re my teammates, I want to be able to lean on you and I can’t do that if you don’t know the really important things about me. My name is Brock, my pronouns are he/him, I’m gay, and I’m a transgender man.” He wipes the heel of his hand across his face and it comes away suspiciously wet. “I wanted to tell you because I am tired of being afraid of my own teammates, because I want to be able to talk to get better and I can’t do that if no one knows. Anyway, I’ve been having a hard time in the bubble and it’s not fair to me and it’s not fair to you guys either.”

Brock moves to sit down but Stetch intercepts him before he does and gives him a hug, Brock squeezes back tightly, hanging on to Stetch as though letting go will make his legs give out. A few of the guys slap him on the back as he goes to sit down, Tanny ruffles his hair. There is something simultaneously light and heavy about coming out to the team. There’s a lightness in knowing that he is no longer carrying this secret alone and the crushing terror that so many people now know so much about him.

They lose Game 4 but Brock is flying because his teammates know. He is happy because, for once, instead of trying to change as fast as humanly possible he lingers a little bit like his teammates, walks around shirtless. He is happy because Petey made a joke about him changing in the bathroom while they were roomies. Coach Green gives them a tongue lashing for the loss but then lets them know how proud he is of them. 

Brock feels lighter than he has in years, he plays around with the rest of the guys in practice. It doesn’t matter if they might go home this game because they have made it this far and become closer because of it. They win, the Canucks win Game 5, and the entire locker room erupts. For the first time in a long time, hockey feels fun for Brock. He calls his mom and tells her that he told the team and then they won and she cries and Brock cries a little too, “Mom,” he whispers. “I never thought that coming out would feel this good.”

“Oh, Brock,” his mom replies. “It’s easier to share a load than to carry it on your own, of course it feels good.”

The Canucks win again. Thatcher stands on his head and they chirp him about not staying up past his bedtime and Brock is floating, floating, floating, riding the high of coming out, riding the high of winning, riding the high of being part of a team.

His sister calls and screams into his ear, Brock screams right back, unselfconscious for a minute about the pitch of his voice. He watches Gossip Girl with Petey, Tuna, and Huggy until Tuna makes a joke about knowing why he likes girly television so much now. Brock instantly feels himself slam back to the ground, time seems to stretch out and the word girly seems to echo in his mind. 

The room is dead silent until Petey speaks up, “Fuck you Tuna, did you read any of the stuff Bo and Eagle sent us.”

“No man it was a lot of shit, I figured I could just ask Brock” Tuna replies after a beat of dead silence.

Petey fixes him with a stare so withering it would kill grass. “You thought that instead of maybe reading that asking Brock incredibly personal medical information would be the way to go?”

Tuna shrinks in his chair a little. “To be fair it sounds much worse when you say it like that.”

“I’m not really feeling Gossip Girl, want to watch Peaky Blinders instead?” Quinn asks, idly flipping on his phone after a minute.

Brock has never loved his teammates more than he does now. He’d thought about sending an awkward email with a list of resources out to the team but Eagle did it instead. It feels weird to thank Petey and Quinn for talking so he just nudges them instead and they nudge back.

“I think I want to stick with Gossip Girl,” Brock says. “My sister used to watch it.”

“Cool,” Quinn says, curling up in his chair more and scrolling on his phone as Petey clicks play on Netflix.

They win Game 6 and Brock is screaming into Petey’s face, jumping on Thatcher in a mass of sweaty bodies and reveling in the joy of being team. Coach Green screams right along with them, joins in in the knot of movement and emotion at the center of the room. The next practice isn’t so much of a practice as a one last hurrah. Marky skates with them, they play tag and steal the bacon and all the things they haven’t played since peewee. The locker room before Game 7 is electric, the frenzied, maddening energy of a do or die game mixed with the pure joy of having made it this far. They lose. They lose three nil in a shutout but it doesn’t matter as much as it would any other year because no one expected it to happen.

There is joy in leaving the bubble Brock realises as he stands on the tarmac with his teammates loitering around as they board the team plane. There is also a great sadness because everyone, in some way or another, realises that this playoffs might just be the last time all of them play on the same team. Brock sits with Stetch on the plane ride home, listens to his playlist officially named chill but what Stetch calls his pining for Petey playlist. 

When they’re collecting their bags from the plane Brock bumps into Petey, “Gonna come to Minnesota with me this offseason Pete?”

“I’m going to stick around in Vancouver for a bit,” Petey says with a smile. “But maybe i’ll head out to see your lake, got to see what all the hype is about.”

Brock smiles back and then goes off to find Stetch and give him one last hug.

For once going back to Minnesota seems to hurt a little less than usual, maybe it’s the fact that he trusts his team. Maybe it’s because Petey promised he’d come. But as Brock sits on the plane to Minnesota he can feel the whole world open up before him.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream with me about the NHL on Tumblr! I'm @BlackWidowRising over there too.


End file.
